Something Different
by onekilobyte
Summary: Today is the day.  Minor spoilers for 2x07.  Kurt/Sam. If that's a bit delusional for you, don't read.


_Answered a prompt that I generated from my muse: __**Today is the day.**_

This is totally random, so.

* * *

He felt the adrenaline course through his veins. It felt so surreal, _everything_ felt so surreal. He felt like floating as he gripped on the leather, felt the rush of running faster, and faster, and dodging a few good asses on the way (beat _that_), and god, he felt so fucking _good_.

And it wasn't even because they were _winning_ (though that was a gigantic plus, he had to admit). He felt the ecstasy, strangely (and it wasn't as though he was taking drugs), even as Finn Hudson had effectively taken his slot as a quarterback, despite his shoulder having healed. Finn was awesome anyway. And hot. But still awesome.

Maybe it was because _today is the day_.

_Today is the last game of the season. Today, I will ask him to prom_.

Yeah, _him_. The one with a voice like angels (or like really, really cool dryads, if you wanna be all like… specific or something). Him, the one who had listened to a total stranger's secrets, the one he had confided in, the one who said "it's okay, it's okay," even as his father relentlessly told him, "no, it will never be," and his mother remained mercifully silent. Him, lifting some girls up the pyramid, cheering on and on. He wasn't top bitch of the Cheerios, but neither was Sam the big boss of the team.

_Run, keep running. Move, legs, come on!_

and even if he would be tired out by Coach Beiste's training sessions, he felt like flying today. Because _today is the day._

_Today is the day I'll tell him_.

* * *

He and Kurt had been casually dating, a bit on-and-off since Kurt broke it off with Blaine. He wasn't about to get mad at Blaine, no way (Blaine was, after all, a really awesome dude who geeked out on comic books as much as he did). He had been so ready to hate on Blaine for causing Kurt, newfound friend, awesome singer, and secret shoelace-tying person, pain. But Kurt had said that maybe he had gone about it the wrong way.

And there was no way in _hell_ that Sam was going to go about this the wrong way.

* * *

It was a slow burn. It wasn't an instant "you're-bi-I'm-gay-let's-get-together". It was more of a slow progression, late night conversations and funny text messages and even more hilarious Tumblr reblogs and Facebook wall-to-wall messages turning into fleeting, feathery touches against the lips, strokes against the back, hugs and hair tugs and suddenly - a finger on the lips.

That had opened the door of possibilities so wide.

But Kurt hadn't been willing to go back to the proverbial Narnia with Sam. Because Kurt wasn't like that. And while Sam knew that Kurt acknowledged Sam's sexuality and, like all good friends do, kept it a secret, he also knew that he would be restraining Kurt, trapping him from what he really deserved.

So they had come to an agreement: "no affections, outside platonic, schmoopy friendship ones, can go on between us."

But he had wanted more, and he was pretty sure that Kurt wanted more, too. What was there to lose? His father had slowly come to terms with this whole situation (mostly due to his awesome mother, _thank cheesus_), and while he was sure there was going to be some negative reactions (mostly from his teammates, he's sure), what was there to lose?

Compared to him, reputation was nothing. Wow, that sounded smart. He learned that from Quinn. She's awesome.

So maybe it's time to fly higher, because _today is the day._

_Today is the day I'll tell the world_.

* * *

Touchdown.

There were cheers everywhere, red and white flashing on and on and he was dizzy, just a little. He helped the rest of the team lift Finn up, and while there was scrambles and searches and congratulatory shouts everywhere, he was only looking for one person.

"Kurt!"

Kurt beamed at him, speaking a million words with those eyes, like _I'm proud of you, _and _Congratulations_, and - more importantly - _I love you_.

He knew what he saw in those eyes, because it's the same glint his eyes held, the same fullness, the same fondness (Quinn and Mercedes told him). And he was only three words away from making or breaking them.

"Sam. Hey."

Sam, jacket in hand, walks closer, strides wider. _"Kurt!_"

Kurt was breathless from Cheerios routine, Sam's sure but well. It's now or never.

He took his jacket and wrapped it around Kurt. It looked good with the Cheerios uniform. "It's clean, I promise."

Kurt chuckled. Sam sighed.

"Kurt, I just wanted to ask - do you - maybe. Doyouwanttogotopromwithme?"

It was out, and now he had never been so sure of anything more than he was now.

"What - Sam -"

"I get it, no affections. But I went ahead and got myself screwed, because well. It's _you_. And. I _do_, you know. Love you. More than I love football, or Avatar, or your eyes - but well, that comes pretty close. So I was wondering -"

Sam was cut off with a kiss - probably their best one yet (then again, their kisses always get better). And, with his breath taken, Kurt pulled away.

"For the record, that's a yes."

He didn't even notice the hollers of the Glee club, Finn's approving smile, Karofsky's distant look and Azimio's scoff.

He didn't have to care. He got what he wanted, right here.


End file.
